Minus the Sledge
by TangerineFields
Summary: Remus and Sirius enjoy the snow without the comfort of a sledge. RxS


A/N: Just a bit of winter weather fluff.

Disclaimer: Remus and Sirius belong exclusively to Ms. J. K. Rowling, unlike their snow rolling shenanigans

**Minus the Sledge**

"Ready?"

Remus nods, hood pulled down over his head, hat in danger of slipping over his eyes. He clenches the muscles in his arms, poised for take off. The snow beneath him creaks slightly as he lies there, stretched out across the hillside. Sirius is a couple of meters away, on the side furthest from the pool on the basis that Remus can swim, and is less likely to break the ice if he catapults himself in.

"One," Remus breathes in and takes one final look at the sky. "Two," he can hear the grin in Sirius' voice. "Three!"

Remus shoves himself off from the starting line, rolling slowly at first and then picking up pace until he's out of control, spinning over bumps and dips in the ground, snagging himself on the tough grass, snow spitting in his face. The hill steepens and Remus' stomach clenches as he flies down the incline, faster and faster. Sure he's going to hear the dull thud of the ice and the groan as it gives way any minute, he sticks an elbow in the ground and comes grinding to a sudden halt.

On his back in the snow, Remus watches as the moon bounces back and forth across a patch of sky, trailing a pale comet's tail, slowing with every swing until it lies, serene and white as if it has never moved at all.

"Rem?" Sirius' voice is faint and far off, and for a moment, Remus feels sure he's fallen in somehow but then he appears over the ridge of the hill, nothing but a silhouette against the distant moon. His footsteps don't seem to make a sound as Remus watches him grow larger and larger until he looms above him, laughing smoke out onto the cold air.

"You alright, Moons?" He sticks out a gloved hand. "Didn't bang your head on the way down?"

"I'm fine," Remus smiles, quite happy to lie in the snow and feel it soak into his coat, the backs of his jeans, into the wisps of hair poking out from under his hat but he takes the hand because Sirius has got that impatient look on his face.

"Again?" He asks, but it's not really a question.

"Alright then." They trudge up the hill; Sirius wondering why walking in the snow is so 'bloody difficult'. Remus just laughs, shaking out his hood as he throws it back over his head.

This time Sirius doesn't count.

"Go!" He yells, muffled by the snow, and the rolling is faster, more frantic, the feeling of helplessness growing, the night sky blurring and chasing stars and white powder and the dipping, rising, falling moon. Something isn't quite right, and as Remus battles lifts his head and look, Sirius barrels into him and the world becomes nothing but a tangle of flailing legs and arms.

"Shit!" Remus hears, and he's not sure whether the sound came from his own lips or Sirius'. He flies wildly off course and comes to a bumpy, painful halt at the bottom of the hill. His own, breathless breathing fills his ears as he lies there and stares into the night sky, the stars glinting faintly. He groans, and lifts his head, as a grinning, cackling Sirius stumbles drunkenly towards him.

"Great that!" He tumbles down by Remus' side, lying spread eagled in the snow. "Bloody fantastic!" He glances sideways, and then beams, "You alright?"

"Yes," Remus has to laugh, reaching for Sirius' hand in the snow, gloved fingers meeting numbly. "I bet I won."

"Nah," Sirius' grin widens, "No one beats me at that, not even Evans and she's a bloomin' whirling dervish!"

Remus looks at Sirius, his hair falling in limp bangs around his face, and smiles.

* * *

They stamp into through the back door with the snow already dripping from their coats, icicles clustered around collars and scarves and the inside of jumper sleeves. Remus shudders as the warm air hits them, struggling with his scarf and his gloves. Sirius laughs, and pulls them off for him, placing a kiss on his frozen nose. Wellingtons prove the sticking point, and the backdoor is flung open again so that the back step can be utilised in prizing then off, ankles straining and socks groaning and arms braced against the doorframe. The dull squelch as he frees his feet is one of the most satisfying sounds of Remus' life.

Shivering, the pair of them dash up the stairs, coats stripped hastily off as water begins to trickle down their necks. Remus grabs his and a coat hanger and Sirius nearly wets himself laughing when Remus' foot ends up in the toilet in his haste to climb up to the shower rail.

"Bed," Sirius decides when Remus had finished extracting his foot from the toilet, and wastes no time in stripping him of everything but a pair of blue boxers.

Numb, pink skin and cold limbs, they tumble into bed together, Sirius throwing the covers over them, and snuggling down, Remus' head on his shoulder.

Outside the snow is softly drifting down and Sirius sniffs and gently nuzzles his chin against Remus' crown, "Love you, Moons."

And Remus smiles.


End file.
